Mine
by scarylolita
Summary: Sometimes, there are things that violence can't solve. SaruMi.


**K © GoRa.**

**My third Sarumi fic! Enjoy, R&R ~**

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**1.**

I'm twenty now. Days ago, my birthday came and went without as much as a word, let alone celebration. I prefer it that way. I'm twenty now, but I still feel like a stupid kid.

Many months ago, the blue aura radiated from Saru's hand and I felt my eyes grow wide and wild.

"No, don't!" I protested desperately as his hand inched toward the HOMRA tattoo I wore so proudly on my chest. He was about to do to my mark what he did to his own and I didn't want that.

"Stay still, Misaki, this won't hurt a bit," Saru insisted as I began to struggle like a trapped animal.

There was a look in his eyes – I wouldn't admit this to anyone, but it was frightening. It seemed almost feral, as if he was being consumed by his emotions… whatever emotions they may have been.

"Stop…" I managed to quietly choke out, then louder, "Stop!"

I kept repeating the words, but Saru didn't seem to hear them at first. Or, if he did, he just didn't care.

I was always a little weak when it came to him.

I don't know why.

Saru never did end up letting the flame lick my skin. His hand stopped a mere centimeter away, and that was when we made eye contact. I think I was crying, and I think that is why he stopped. It's like he realized he was hurting me, and that this wasn't just a game anymore. In the past, our fights were taken lightly by those to witness them. Kusanagi would roll his eyes, almost as if to say, "Oh, look, they're at it again."

That time was different than all those other times… but I suppose it doesn't matter anymore.

Mikoto's gone, as is the mark on my chest, but I often still feel my hand inching towards it out of familiarity.

Fuck, it still makes me sick with grief to think about it.

I can't remember ever being that scared in my life. That mark was my pride. HOMRA was my pride. Now, I feel a hell of a lot emptier.

Saru had just clicked his tongue at my expression. "Tch," he sighed and the flames radiating from him disappeared. "Imagine seeing such a look on your face… It proves something."

"What does it prove?" I hissed out the question, ashamed of myself.

"You are weak, _Mi-Sa-Ki_," he whispered into my ear before backing away. He said aloud what I had been thinking, though the last thing I wanted was to hear it from another person. "You are weak," he continued, "and I am strong."

I liked to think that HOMRA made me strong. I liked to think that having something to protect made me strong.

But now I'm not so sure, because when you lose the important people in your life, you begin to unravel. Maybe it's best to be like Saru and just not give a fuck about anything or anyone.

I try to be like that, but it doesn't really work out. It's a lot harder than it looks, and I guess I need to give him credit for being able to do it so damn easily.

**2. **

People leave all the damn time.

First it was Saru.

Second was Totsuka.

And then… Mikoto.

I try hard not to think about everything I've lost. It only hurts.

After Mikoto died, we all went back to HOMRA and toasted to him. The bar was strangely quiet. It felt as if everyone was too afraid to say a word, like speaking would damage the thin line that was stopping everyone from becoming a miserable fucking mess.

Kusanagi simply poured the drinks and when everyone had one in hand, he was the first to speak –

"To Mikoto," he said solemnly, raising his class. "You were the best king we could have asked for."

And no one could disagree as we all clanked our glasses together. For a long time, it was the only sound in the room. Everyone was still too scared to say a goddamn thing.

I wish I could put together the words to describe the way I feel, but there are none.

Nothing is constant.

It's a lesson I continue to learn over and over again and I'm so fucking sick of it.

I don't want to keep playing Saru's games. I'm sick of those, too… However, I'm not brave enough to admit any of this out loud and it will continue. It's an endless cycle and I don't have it in me to stop it.

I don't know why…

Maybe it's because, deep down, I need this small sense of familiarity that Saru brings me. When I am around him, I get the briefest moment of nostalgia before the fighting starts.

If I had to be honest, I'd have to admit that one of my biggest mistakes was letting him leave. One of my biggest mistakes was letting my anger get the best of me.

There are things that yelling and violence can't solve.

**3.**

It's another typical summer night and most people are probably at parties and crap, but not me. I was never into that shit.

I swing my legs back and forth as I sit high up on the jungle gym near the skate park. It's dark, and you're not supposed to be here past 10PM but there's no one here to tell me to leave so I stay.

"Mi-sa-ki."

I let out a tired sigh and stare down at Saru. "Don't say my name, traitor."

He just smirks.

"What the hell do you want?"

"It's July 23rd," he says.

"So?"

"You're birthday was a few days ago," he continues. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," I mumble. "How do you always find me, anyway?" I ask, not in the mood for another fight. I'm so sick of fighting.

He shrugs, climbing with ease until he's sitting next to me. He's not wearing his stupid Scepter 4 uniform. He's dressed casually and, somehow, I find it comforting. I hate that goddamn blue uniform. I want to destroy it.

"We used to come here," he says. "Do you remember?"

It was where I forced him to skip class with me and smoke a cigarette. He didn't want to try it, but I made him. He coughed and I laughed at him for it. It was where we loitered on many occasions, playing with handheld game devices and talking about pointless things.

I guess this place holds a lot of good memories…

"I remember," I mumble, not wanting to think about it anymore because those days are long gone. "A lot has changed since then."

Things change, people change, and often for the worse. I think this is one of those unfortunate cases. Death, and more broken friendships. HOMRA wasn't a game, but we're all guilty of acting like it was.

"Yes," he says simply, looking up at the sky. "Strange, isn't it?"

"What?" I ask. "The fact that you're being civil for once?"

He snorts, "Misaki… You're always the one starts the fights."

"No, I'm not. You're the one who started this whole fucking thing!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! You started it when you left!" I shout. I'm trying not to sound angry and hurt, but I can't help it. I _am_ angry and hurt and I'm sick of feeling this way.

"I was never a part of HOMRA," he says quietly, "I was always the outsider."

"That's because you never fucking tried!" I growl. "You just sat there making faces and turning your nose up like you were so much better than everyone and everything!"

"I was tired of watching you with them," he admits. "It angered me."

"Why?"

"Because I realized you weren't mine and you never were."

I make a face, "Don't be creepy…"

He just laughs.

"Whatever," I mumble, jumping onto the gravel. "I'm going home."

"Goodnight," I hear him say as I turn away.

And as I leave the park, for some reason, I feel a little better.

**4. **

Ever since that night, Saru and I have wordlessly created a ritual. Every night at the exact same time, Saru and I meet at the park.

I'm beginning to realize that though people leave, it is possible for people to return as well.

When we're together like this, Saru isn't the asshole from SCEPTER4, he's just himself… Saru is Saru again.

So we meet, and we talk about the things that don't matter though I have a feeling soon enough we'll be talking about the things that _do_ matter.

Tonight, Saru is the first one to arrive.

"Misaki," he greets after spotting me, his voice soft and a little sombre.

"Monkey," I mumble as I climb up.

He just smirks, but it slowly melts into a smile as I take a seat next to him.

For many long moments, it's silent, as if neither of us no what to say.

"I miss you," I whisper, choosing to be the first to speak.

"I'm right here," he says. "I've always been right here."

I chuckle to myself. "I know… I'm sorry."

"So am I," he pauses. "You're not weak."

And perhaps this is what I needed from him.

Another silence falls over us, but there is nothing uncomfortable about it this time. I can tell he's in thought, I find myself wondering what is on his mind.

"Imagine," I start, "what it would be like if everyone said what they were thinking."

"Well," Saru considers, bemused, "I think there would be a lot of happy people and a lot of unhappy people."

"Kind of the way it is now," I snort. "I guess honesty isn't always the best policy and sometimes there's such a thing as too much of it."

"I agree."

"Saru?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you _really_ leave HOMRA?" I ask, turning to face him.

"I already told you."

"I don't get it, though…" I tilt my head to the side.

"I was jealous," he states.

"Of who?"

He lets out a long, slow sigh and I can tell it's difficult for him to speak. "Everyone you smiled at… everyone you laughed with."

"Why, though?"

"I like you," he says somewhat humbly. "I've always liked you."

"What?" I frown, mildly surprised.

"You heard what I said, Mi-sa-ki," he smirks, saying my name in that annoying and taunting way.

I make a face at him before turning my head forward and staring down at the ground. "I don't get it," I repeat myself.

"Perhaps there is nothing to understand," he states. "Perhaps, instead of analyzing it, you can simply accept it. I'm not asking for anything to happen, I'm only asking for you to see this for what it is."

"Why me?" I ask in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. I don't understand what is so god damn special about me.

"Misaki is Misaki," he says. "It's always been you."

"Why, though? Girls don't like me," I start, "and you remind me of that on a daily basis."

He just chuckles. "That doesn't matter, because I like you."

I wrinkle my nose, letting out a soft sigh. "Saru…" I begin.

"Hm?"

"Can I try something?" I ask.

He looks mildly humored, as if he knows exactly where this is going. "Yes."

Here goes nothing.

"Close your eyes," I murmur. After he does so, I lean forward and experimentally press my lips to his.

It's quick, but it's also not as bad as I thought it would be.

"Misaki?" Saru looks at me questioningly.

I don't say anything. Instead, I lean in and kiss him again. I'm probably not very good at it, but he doesn't seem to mind. He cups my face in his hands and I moan into his mouth. I've never kissed anyone before… and I've never imagined being kissed, especially not like this. I don't know what I'm doing, but his tongue feels nice.

"S-Saru," I say his name once we part, feeling my traitorous cheeks turn red.

"Not bad for a virgin," he smirks once we part again.

… and he had to ruin the moment.

"Saru," I repeat his name tersely, gritting my teeth.

"Just joking," he says, grabbing my head and kissing the top of it.

"Fuck off. I'm going home," I tell him, but this time, the harsh words hold no malice and I think he sees that because he's smiling. "See you next week."

As I walk home, I notice that I'm smiling, too. For the first time in a long time, I'm smiling.


End file.
